


Switch

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Warning: Disturbing Mental Images, Warning: violence, warning: dub-con, warning: non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Megatron and Optimus get blown into one another’s bodies, taken ‘home’, and get to walk the proverbial mile in one another’s moccasins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NK (NKfloofiepoof)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NKfloofiepoof/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Prime/Soundwave, Megatron/Starscream  
>  **Warnings:** Character Death, Violence, dub-con, Attempted Rape, Sticky Smut, Wheeljack as Primus’ Little (unaware) Helper  
>  **Notes:** From the kinkmeme, the request can be found **[here](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/7561.html?thread=6749065#t6749065) **. Pairing up there is the final result. Other scenes will occur too. Prime/Starscream, and of course Soundwave and Starscream _think_ they’re with Megatron, not Prime… Megatron gets some fun with Ratchet too.

It reminded Prowl of that t-shirt Chip had once worn, and later some intrepid jokester had painted in English and Cybertronian on the lab wall.

**I am a BOMB TECHNICIAN. If you see me running, try and keep up!**

So when Wheeljack suddenly ran and dove behind a boulder, half the Autobots were already fleeing, as were a healthy number of Decepticons.

Prowl shouted the order to take cover anyway, but, as so often occurred when the battles got truly ugly, he knew Prime would not get to safety. Cold fear lanced his spark, but he knew he would never reach Optimus in time. Ironhide was trying, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker grabbed him and covered his frame with theirs. Ratchet screamed a vile curse. Bluestreak took aim.

Prowl shook his helm and ducked.

The blast was truly spectacular, and lying at ground zero were Prime and Megatron. Miraculously both were still alive.

Ratchet was already moving, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe flanking him as they raced to Prime’s side, Ironhide cursing in their wake. Moving more cautiously, Soundwave edged toward Megatron. Both leaders were still, but the relief was palpable as the comms rang out with Ratchet’s, //Alive! Alive and mostly undamaged. Unconscious from the blast though. Skyfire!//

Skyfire dropped to the ground beside the medic before Ratchet had even finished saying his name.

Prowl eyed the Decepticons, rolling his optics as Starscream landed.

“Now _I_ am leader of the Decepticons! Take them! While they’re worrying over their precious Prime!”

No one moved except for Skyfire as he transformed and the twins, who lifted Prime into the shuttle’s cargo bay. Prowl kept his optics moving. They were hardly distracted. All around weapons were aimed at the Decepticons, and they pointed their own right back at the Autobots.

Prowl looked to Soundwave, meeting the red visor, both of their chins dipping in a nod of agreement.

“Autobots,” Prowl called, “fall back.”

“Decepticons,” Soundwave intoned, “return to base.”

Starscream sputtered, but the Decepticons were already obeying Soundwave. Prowl waited, rifle up and ready, Bluestreak covering him as everyone else covered Skyfire and slowly backed away from the battlefield.

The Constructicons lifted Megatron and launched, and once everyone -with the exception of Starscream- was off the ground, Soundwave followed them.

“This isn’t over, Autobot!” Starscream snapped.

“It is for today,” Prowl said, tone even and cool as ever.

Starscream’s wingtips shook, fists clenched tight, but then he took off, transforming and rocketing away with a plate-rattling sonic boom.

“Ya know, Prowl, I think we should make a new rule that Megatron and Wheeljack aren’t _both_ allowed to have their new inventions within like, a hundred miles of one another or something, because every time they are, something blows up, and my audials are ringing like you wouldn’t believe.”

Prowl smiled a little at Bluestreak and motioned for him to transform as he stepped onto the road, doing so himself. “I am not certain I could get them to obey.”

Bluestreak snorted. “Tellin’ me. Maybe get Ratchet to tell them? Not that Wheeljack listens to him really though. I mean, I heard the last lecture, and _my_ audials were blistered, but there went Jack, blowin’ stuff up again. I’m pretty sure Ratchet just makes up curse words sometimes, but they’re really good, or... ya know, _bad_ I guess, but I bet he could at least get Megatron to consider it a little bit. Even Prime tries to do what Ratchet tells him to. Pits, even you do, because I know that he’s come to make you leave your office a few times when you work too late, which you better not do tonight ‘cause I’m totally not above telling on you when you work too hard-”


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron groaned, optics onlining to- ugh! Orange.

The slag?

“Easy.” The Autobot medic was suddenly there, hovering over Megatron, voice _far_ too calm for an enemy faced with a conscious Megatron. “Just stay still for a moment, Optimus.”

 _Optimus_?!

“So far everything looks ok. The concussion knocked you both out, but near as I can tell, you haven’t sustained any serious damage. Fragging miracle.”

Ratchet stepped away, and Megatron watched him bustle about. “I had to replace some fried relays, but overall you’re really slagging lucky.”

Megatron brought a hand up to his face, imitating a gesture he’d seen Prime make, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His fingertips bumped against the battlemask.

 _What_ was going on? Where was _his_ body?

“Processors aching?” Ratchet asked from Megatron’s elbow, fiddling with a line attached to his forearm.

“Yes,” Megatron dared say out loud, vocalizer rough with a little bit of static. It was both a relief, and incredibly jarring to hear Prime’s voice. He pulled his hand back slowly, staring at the blue of it. The red of his forearm. The distinct _lack_ of his fusion cannon.

If he was in Prime’s body, then where was Prime? Did this mean that Prime was with the Decepticons? Megatron found himself hoping the fool Autobot managed to pretend to be him enough to survive. He wanted his own body back.

Megatron groaned, hand dropping. Starscream. Frelling Starscream would learn about this, and that was just going to frag _everything_ up. Of course, Prime did manage to hold his own against Megatron. Hopefully he wasn’t stupid enough to fall for whatever the blasted seeker came up with next.

“Just try to relax while I do a last few scans,” Ratchet was saying, patting his shoulder as if that alone could assuage Megatron’s very valid concerns. “You’re likely to be disoriented and dizzy for a day or two, and for frag’s sake, if something _hurts_ come tell me. You don’t always have to tough it out. Pain is our body’s way of telling us something is damaged and in need of repair.” Megatron bit back a growl as Ratchet jabbed him in the arm. “Got it?”

“Yes,” Megatron replied, not at all certain how Prime would have responded, but there were a fair amount of jokes about the harridan of a CMO being able to cow even Optimus Prime. He hoped simply agreeing and looking dazed would be enough. He had no idea what had happened, but if Ratchet thought he was Prime, and he _looked_ like Prime -as the battlemask and new colors seemed to imply- then this was the _perfect_ chance to find a way to defeat the Autobots. He _looked_ like Optimus Prime! If he was careful, he could learn of all their plans to thwart the Decepticons. He could use interpersonal relationships to cause dissention. And when the time was right, he could utterly destroy the Autobots and break the faith any survivors had in their Prime. He would bring the Autobots down once and for all, and they would never see it coming!

~ | ~

“Don’t move!” The words were snapped as Optimus lurched awake. “My lord,” was added belatedly and grudgingly.

Optimus cycled his vents and blinked his optics open to stare in confusion and shock at the brilliant white of the- Where-?

He turned his helm, only just suppressing the flinch at seeing Hook standing beside him.

So he was a prisoner then.

“One Pit of a blast,” Hook said. “Knocked you out, Soundwave called the retreat, the Autobots collected Prime, and we brought you back here. I’m sure Soundwave’s report will be more thorough.”

The Autobots took _Prime_?!

“You’ll probably be a little disoriented, so as your wannabe medic,” Hook continued, a sardonic twist in his tone, “I’d recommend you take it easy for the night.”

Hook began disconnecting leads from Optimus’ arm, and that’s when it _slammed_ into him. His arm was silver. His hand was black. Oh slag.

Oh wow! He had the cannon! Which meant Megatron _didn’t_. All right, a blessing that.

“So comm me if anything feels off, but other than a few fried relays I replaced, you’re in good repair.”

Optimus was then ignored. He wasn’t sure how Megatron would react to being so summarily dismissed, but decided he could blame it on the explosion for a little while. He sat, then stood, fighting off the wave of dizziness, then got out of there before he screwed up and gave himself away.

The walk to Megatron’s quarters was difficult. He got a handle on the spinning gyros, but it was rather difficult to walk like Megatron. He was sure he should be swaggering or stomping more, but that just made his head hurt. He was afraid to speak should he come across any Decepticons because he didn’t know if he’d end up speaking with Megatron’s voice or his own. And wouldn’t _that_ be interesting to explain? He also vowed to gift Jazz with tickets to the next dozen or so concerts he wanted to go to. Mirage would be more difficult, but Optimus would find a way to thank him too. It was their expertise and topnotch spy work that had completely familiarized every Autobot with the layout of the _Victory_ just in case of capture and the chance of escape presented itself.

Optimus could at least avoid stumbling around aimlessly. Even better was that he knew Megatron’s passcode, assuming it hadn’t been changed. Yes, Mirage definitely deserved something nice.

The door swooshed open, and Optimus stepped in, pausing as it slid shut and locked. He looked around, surprised by the austere and spartan room. There was a desk terminal and chair, a berth, and a few shelves on the wall with datapads neatly stacked. Nothing personal. Nothing purely decorative. He knew this, but for some reason was still expecting to find a bejeweled throne. Or something.

Optimus slumped onto the berth, feeling strange and displaced. Neither a terribly surprising reaction, really, he just wasn’t sure what to do. How in the frelling Pit could he reach out to the Autobots without alerting the Decepticons _while_ convincing the Autobots that he was Prime? He honestly couldn’t ‘escape’ either. He was pretty sure Megatron didn’t go off for joy flights, and Optimus didn’t know _how_ to fly. Sideswipe’s jetpack was one thing, but they were all still working on the landings there. Decepticon anti-gravs were something he had no experience with and couldn’t risk. Not against experienced fliers.

Optimus scrubbed at his face. Primus, that was just slagging _weird_! Sure he removed the battlemask on occasion, but this wasn’t _his_ face.

“This is so farking weird,” he said, then rolled his optics that he’d jolted in surprise to hear Megatron’s voice. It did stand to reason after all.

However, something far more worrying than Optimus being trapped and incognito with the Decepticons was the chance that Megatron was there, right now, with his Autobots. Was the wolf in their very home? In his quarters? In his berth? And while Optimus knew that every last one of his mechs were capable warriors in their own right, this was _Megatron_.

And they didn’t know.


	3. Chapter 3

Megatron lurched awake. His internal chrono told him it was the middle of the night, so why-

“It’s just me, Optimus. It’s ok.” A soft, low, and stupidly gentle voice rose from the dark. Megatron finally got his optics to focus on the dim blue glow and haze of lighter shadow in the dark of Prime’s quarters. “Medbay’s clear. Everyone’s been sent to their own quarters to rest.”

Megatron forced himself to relax, lie back down.

“I’m sorry,” the Autobot said. “I didn’t mean to startle you out of recharge.” A presence at Megatron’s side, then a light, searching touch to his arm. “Scared me half to fragging death today. I really need you to stop being at ground zero, ok?”

Megatron had no idea what Prime would say, probably something insipid and heroic. “Someone must stop him.” There. That would do. He hoped.

The Autobot heaved a sigh, then stretched out, pressing close against Megatron’s side. “I know. Going to start billing you fraggers for putting you back together. The more I worry, the higher the price.”

Ah. So it was the medic. Interesting. The Decepticons had never managed to pinpoint a mech that Optimus Prime kept as a lover. However, if he only visited Prime in the black of night, that could be why. This was a useful bit of information, and could certainly be put to Megatron’s advantage. If for no other reason than clearly this was something illicit. Why hide in the dark if it wasn’t? If they weren’t actively trying to keep it a secret?

Megatron suppressed the urge to snort derisively. Foolish Autobots. To be ashamed of something as normal as interfacing. Or maybe it was just Prime? The fool.

Megatron was hovering on the edge of recharge again, confident that the medic wouldn’t harm him, when a hand began to roam over his plating. Then Ratchet rolled over him, straddling his waist. Fingers stroked upward, pausing at the battlemask.

“Don’t play shy with me,” Ratchet said, voice lilting playfully. “Open.”

It took Megatron a moment to work out the right controls, but then the mask divided and retracted, and Ratchet bent to kiss him. It was slow and warm, and entirely too soft. Megatron’s hands came up to grip Ratchet, but he stopped himself from being rough. Unicron take it. He was going to have to endure sappy Autobot _lovemaking_ , wasn’t he? 

It certainly appeared so, but Ratchet also seemed content to do all the work. Megatron could accept being… serviced, he supposed. He relaxed under slow caresses by knowing hands. Ratchet did seem rather adept at finding all the little places on Prime’s frame that would elicit a pleasurable response.

There was a slight sense of disconnection. Megatron did not think he would enjoy this in his own body. Certainly he wouldn’t be surprising himself with a low moan just from a slow lick across his abdominal plating. Prime’s alt mode grill was sensitive. He would have to remember that next time they were fighting.

Ratchet worked himself lower and lower, leaving a nice tingling warmth of growing desire along his pleasantly thorough path.

“So quiet tonight,” Ratchet murmured, then nibbled along the edge of pelvic plating.

That was something Megatron had to respond to, and he scrambled for something to say. “Focused,” he decided on, wanting to keep his words minimal. “I am enjoying this.” Which, he thought, was actually true to a degree. Interfacing with Starscream was a battle, for as fun as it was, and Soundwave, while dutifully obedient, was not exactly ardent. Ratchet was stoking a slow-burning fire under Megatron’s panel, one he hadn’t realized was already quite so hot until the medic licked across it.

The panel retracted, and Megatron grinned a little in the dark. How many amongst the Decepticons could say they had an Autobot willingly, _voluntarily_ pushing between their legs to suck their spike?

He jumped though, going still as Ratchet’s helm dipped down to lick across his valve.

“Did that hurt?” Fingers pressed gently over the surface of Megatron’s array, the medic’s voice no longer purring, but crisp and business-like.

“No.” Megatron forced himself to relax.

“Are you sure?” Ratchet asked, crawling up to hover in the dark above Megatron. “If you’re damaged-”

“It didn’t hurt.”

There was a moment of silence, and Megatron readied himself to fight. If he could knock out the medic, he could at the very least escape the _Ark_. He would contact Soundwave for a pick-up and then-

“We don’t have to do this,” Ratchet said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Ah. Foolish Autobot concern rather than suspicion. Megatron stopped himself from agreeing with the medic. Prime would say something… softer. “That’s not what this is.” Yes. There. Now hopefully the glitch would get back to it. Megatron had a bit too much of a charge thanks to Ratchet, and he wasn’t quite prepared to touch _Prime’s_ equipment yet himself. Was that even self-service in such a situation?

For added encouragement, Megatron pushed his hips up. If Ratchet believed-

Oh slag it all! He didn’t want to think!

Ratchet chuckled. “Well, if you’re sure?”

Megatron growled, which only brought another quiet laugh. Ratchet dipped down, lips soft and warm as they moved over his own. Megatron had to again remind himself not to grab and take. If this was Prime’s regular lover, then he was the most likely to notice such a thing being different. He would just have to follow along this time. There would no doubt be worse things he’d have to say or do before this was all over. Unicron take Optimus and his idiocy! Megatron wasn’t sure he could get through one of those ridiculous speeches without maiming someone.

“Ready?” Ratchet asked, breaking into Megatron’s thoughts. He was nestled between Megatron’s thighs again, his voice sounding amused.

Megatron growled again before he could stop himself, hips canting up. The slick glide of the medic’s tongue wasn’t nearly as shocking, though it certainly sent a nice zing over Megatron’s borrowed sensornet. And what was that Ratchet had said? Was Prime vocal while interfacing?

Primus. Of all the things he never wondered about.

Megatron made his frame relax, and allowed out a low moan. It wasn’t his own voice, which was odd. And oddly arousing. His lips twitched in amusement, but Ratchet quickly distracted him. The mech was rather talented with that tongue of his, and did indeed prove just as knowledgeable in finding the right spots as he had earlier with his hands.

It was a very odd thing to _trust_ Ratchet, but he was an Autobot pleasuring his Prime, not a Decepticon that Megatron had to watch constantly for treachery. It allowed him to relax, even lose himself a little bit to the very pleasing sensations coursing through him. Being somewhat vocal wasn’t all that difficult either, and only seemed to spur Ratchet on.

Megatron gasped as Ratchet suddenly stopped, then again, more sharply as something firm pushed into his valve.

Was-

Ratchet was _spiking_ him?!

He was. He really slagging was!

The medic moaned, curling down over Megatron, murmuring something just before his mouth closed over the main energon line. Megatron shoved away the shock, only to be even more surprised that his borrowed body was reacting just as one would expect one to in the hot grip of arousal and lust.

It felt… good. Megatron realized too, that his spike- Prime’s spike wasn’t out. Was _Optimus slagging Prime_ a _valve_ mech? And how strange was it that this body really was reacting somewhat independent of Megatron’s preferences? He could feel the charge building, was moving with Ratchet, and didn’t even really mind. If this was _normal_ for Prime-

And who would ever suspect Megatron of allowing such a thing?

Primus, it was getting difficult to think. Heat crawled over his circuits. He spread his legs a little wider, rocked his hips up into each thrust. The pace picked up, a winding, coiling feeling tightening across his pelvic plating.

A gasp. A moan. A pause where everything seemed to hang on the precipice, then the dam burst and Megatron shouted.

He was still reeling in the post-overload haze when he recognized the soft sound by his audial as a chuckle.

“Good one, huh?” Ratchet asked, easing away so he could settle in against Megatron’s side.

Megatron decided that a response would be pointless. He wasn’t actually certain he could form one, and Ratchet was already purring sleepily. A good one, indeed. Megatron never would have thought he could enjoy taking a spike. Part of it had to be Prime’s body.

More importantly, however. How could he use this in the future?

~ | ~

Optimus sat tensely through the Decepticon officers’ meeting the day after waking up as Megatron. He was still relying heavily on intelligence gathered by Jazz and Mirage, but it was surprisingly difficult to find enough fault in Starscream’s proposed projects to lash out effectively. He certainly couldn’t bring himself to actually strike the mech. Combat was one thing, but Starscream’s proposed energon extraction via the heat vents in the ocean’s floor was actually a good idea. Something that would take quite a lot of work, but would certainly be easier on the Decepticons than jumping into battle every other week. He managed, but wasn’t at all sure he’d been convincing.

“Clearly that blast scrambled your processors more than they already were,” Starscream hissed.

Optimus planted his hands on the table, growling. The cannon began to power up, which sent everyone except Soundwave scrambling out the door.

The cannon cycled down in the wake of Optimus’ shock that it had actually reacted, and for a moment he was sure Soundwave had figured it out. He calculated the likelihood of Mirage or Jazz having snuck into Megatron’s quarters to discover the specially coded datapad he’d left for them as extremely low to non-existent, and braced for the attack, mind tightly closed.

“Condition, Lord Megatron?” Soundwave asked.

Optimus scrambled for something appropriate to say. He felt like that’s all he’d been doing since setting foot out of the warlord’s berthroom that morning. “Having doubts, Soundwave?”

The visor flashed, Soundwave’s shoulders tensing. “Negative.”

He stood silently for a moment, and Optimus waited, hoping to take some cue from Soundwave on what should happen next. He was not expecting Soundwave to step forward, almost hesitant, and slide his open palm up his chest plates. The lack of violent response appeared to be enough encouragement, and the battlemask split and retracted. Arms curled around Optimus’ shoulders, and Soundwave pressed in against him.

Optimus’ hands came up automatically, and he glanced around the meeting room. Really? Right here in public? He supposed Megatron didn’t concern himself with privacy much. Who in their right mind would bother him unless they had to?

Soundwave pulled lightly, so Optimus followed, still taking his cues from him. Did Megatron kiss? Was he actually somewhat gentle with his lovers? Did he see to their satisfaction, or did he just take for himself and leave them to clean up? Primus, how was he supposed to do this? He didn’t really desire Soundwave.

Although his body seemed to be reacting well to what felt like knowledgeable touches.

This couldn’t be right, not morally. Soundwave didn’t _know_ it wasn’t Megatron he was touching. And why was he initiating this? Was this normal? They knew Megatron interfaced with a variety of other Decepticons, but just who was of little tactical value because he never appeared attached to them -not that Optimus would condone attacking a lover as a ploy to manipulate Megatron anyway; that was underhanded and wrong- and _how_ Megatron interacted with his chosen partner was not information Optimus had ever wanted. Mirage and Jazz had been happy to leave those details out as well.

Soundwave fetched up against the table, and laid back, knees bracketing Optimus’ thighs. The click of his interface panel unlocking and retracting seemed obscenely loud, and was he trembling? Was that desire or fear?

Slag.

Optimus reached out to stall with touch, thumb scribing slow circles over the valve opening. He wondered if Megatron had ever walked away from interfacing, and if he could get away with it now?

Soundwave squirmed a little at the touch, foot hooking around behind Optimus’ aft to pull him in. He was willing, it seemed, and Optimus didn’t think he could get out of this without raising suspicions he couldn’t afford. He pulled up memory after memory to help his own systems online. He didn’t have many of using his spike, far preferring a more receptive roll. Some considered it more submissive, but he felt that spiking -a perceived domination in the berth- would be a misuse of his authority. That and he really liked the feeling of a nice spike stroking over the nodes in his valve.

His panel retracted, and-

Wow. Megatron had a nice spike.

Optimus felt his face scorch with heat. He absolutely did _not_ just think that.

Thankfully, Soundwave’s visor was dark, optics offlined, and -Primus, please- not watching as ‘Megatron’s’ face flushed even hotter pink as Optimus grasped the thick spike and guided it to his valve. He pushed in, rocking his hips to inch deeper. Soundwave was rather tight and not terribly lubed up, but it was well past the point that Optimus could just stop. Soundwave writhed, legs tightening, mouth open and panting slightly, and hands fisted. Perhaps this was normal? It didn’t look like pain, and he was trying to be careful.

Optimus was eventually seated deeply in Soundwave’s valve, and it was impossible to deny that the squeezing ripples and encasing heat was pleasant. He figured Megatron was probably a selfish lover, but just like earlier when he hadn’t had it in him to strike at Starscream, he couldn’t just abuse Soundwave either. He rocked slowly, one hand holding Soundwave’s hip so he wouldn’t be shoved across the table, the other thumb smoothing back and forth over his anterior nodes of his array.

Thrusts grew easier as Soundwave’s lining lubricated and heated. Plush lips -that Optimus really did find himself wanting to kiss- were parted, allowing panting breaths and low moans to escape. Soundwave’s hands eventually grasped and curled over the edge of the table, his thighs squeezing and pulling Optimus into each thrust as his hips rolled up off the table. Optimus was so caught up in trying to please Soundwave that he failed to notice just how revved he was. Soundwave bucked and shouted, back bowing off the table and valve clenching down even tighter to milk his spike in rhythmic waves. He shouted too, jarred to hear Megatron’s voice, but nothing could stop the overload at that point.

Optimus hung over Soundwave for a moment, trying to catch his breath and stabilize his gyros. That’d been rather intense. Bracing himself, he eased back, catching one of Soundwave’s hands to help him rise.

He could have kicked himself for it, when Soundwave looked down at their joined hands in confusion. Optimus released him quickly, spike retracting and panel shutting. “I’ll be in my quarters,” he said, then strode out, trying to quash the guilt that rose up. He probably shouldn’t have done that. He definitely shouldn’t have _helped_ Soundwave up. If he’d managed to mimic Megatron in every other way while interfacing, _that_ alone could have given him away.

Primus! He needed to get out, get back to his Autobots. Get back to his own body!


	4. Chapter 4

Megatron sat quietly, just observing the Autobot officers as each discussed the past week in their respective commands. The weekly meeting was not supplying him with the deluge of useful information he’d been expecting, but it was a nice break from hearing Starscream snark and whine and demand the ridiculous from him.

The Autobots were far from perfect. The bickered and bantered, and debated, but none of them screeched, not once was a weapon drawn, and Megatron himself didn’t feel that bubbling tension that usually came before slamming his fists into the table and threatening Starscream. It was like a vacation, and other than the odd dreams he was having when he recharged, and the lack of useful information to bring the Autobots down, Megatron was rather enjoying himself.

~

Megatron entered the command center, and nodded almost automatically at the called greeting of, “Hey, Prime!”

“Anything to report?” Megatron asked, voice mild in a way he had only very seldom heard Prime speak.

“Nah. ‘Cons are being pretty quiet,” the grey Praxian replied.

“They really are,” Jazz said, feet kicked up on the console, unafraid of being caught looking like he wasn’t doing something important. “Been a few weeks, boss bot, we might wanna go take a looksee.”

Megatron frowned, the expression mostly hidden by the battlemask. Sending Autobots into his base? They could _do_ that? Just what would they discover if he allowed that? No. Megatron was already shaking his helm. “Let’s wait a bit.”

He was still trying to come up with a valid excuse for why they shouldn’t go, while still sounding like Optimus Prime, when Jazz simply nodded his agreement, and went back to watching the monitor, foot tapping the air to some unheard rhythm.

Megatron had nothing else to do or say, so left, thinking, _It’s rather nice to be liked and respected._

He caught himself nodding to the thought, and decided that perhaps a perusal of the datapads in Prime’s office would yield something useful. If nothing else, he’d be alone so no one would see him talking to himself.

~

Megatron had allowed himself to be cajoled into attending ‘movie night’ in the Autobots’ common room, mostly because Prowl had, and if Prowl was willing and had his doorwings twitching in poorly hidden amusement, then Megatron ought to go as well. Prime likely would have, and that truly had become his guiding thought in the last couple weeks.

He sat in a rather plush and comfortable arm chair, accepted the red demon’s offer of a gelled energon treat, but declined the high grade. His ‘no thank you’ was taken with a jaunty salute, and laughing, “Well, I had to try. One day, Prime!”

“Wise choice,” Prowl said from the chair beside Megatron, waving Sideswipe away before he could even get the words out. “Perceptor reported a small quantity of missing rocket fuel from the labs just yesterday.”

Sideswipe’s optics widened, and then he was gone, slipping through the milling crowd of Autobots chatting and laughing with one another. Megatron chuckled, and shook his helm. They were so different. He was having a hard time disliking it here, and it was impossible not to see the contrast to his Decepticons. He wasn’t even sure _he_ could make them behave so well under the threat of a beating. In fact, he knew he couldn’t because there was often a brawl or some instance of in-fighting no matter what he said or who he punished after the fact.

He had to agree again with the thought that this was nice. Yes, he would like it if he could have some ridiculous ‘movie night’, whatever that was, with his own troops. It was relaxing and pleasant, and would probably do them all some good.

~

Megatron sat on a bench, fingers tracing the ornate carvings along the edge.

His own black fingers! Attached to _his_ silver arm.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Kaon,” a familiar voice said from beside him.

Megatron looked over, helm tipping in curiosity. The mech had white optics, very unusual, but was otherwise rather nondescript. He didn’t remember him ever having seen him before, so why was his voice familiar?

“You don’t remember it, do you?” the mech asked, a friendly smile curving the corners of his mouth up as he gestured to their surroundings. “This is your memory after all, though I did have quite a search for one that you truly felt peace during.” The smile turned a bit sad.

Megatron frowned a little, but looked around. “It’s the park. I managed to make my way here on one of my surface days.” He looked down at the carved stone. There weren’t many nice places in Kaon, but this park was full of stone carvings. Some distant time in the past an art master had brought the stone from off-world, and he and his students had created this park.

“It was so beautiful once,” the mech said, voice soft and distinctly sad now. “All of Cybertron was. It makes my spark ache to see this place as it is now.”

The view did not change with the mech’s words as Megatron expected, the park and all its works of art remaining whole and perfect. “I only went the one time.” He knew it must be destroyed now. “Where are we really?”

“In your memory. This place and many others of equal beauty no longer exist. The war has seen to that.”

“The war was necessary,” Megatron said, tone defensive. He wasn’t sure why he felt reprimanded, but he did, and didn’t like it.

“I never disagreed with your revolution, Megatron. Most of those in power had long forgotten what it was to care for others. No, what I do not like, what I wish to see set right, is your methods.” Megatron felt pinned in place by the mech’s white gaze, almost afraid, but then the smile returned. “You haven’t fallen nearly as far as Optimus and I feared. Your spark is strong and bright.”

“This is far too esoteric for me,” Megatron muttered, shaking his helm a bit and disconcerted to feel his face heat.

The mech chuckled. “Well, at the risk of glitching your processors, allow me just to say that you’ve renewed my hope these last few weeks. You are redeemable, Megatron, and you have much to give Cybertron and our people.”

Megatron shifted, utterly uncomfortable, which only seemed to bring more affectionate humor from the mech.

“When you wake, really look around you. At what you could have, and what you need to do to save not just Cybertron, but all Cybertronians. Will you do this for me, Megatron?”

Megatron nodded, not even conceiving of saying no. He was still nodding as he woke in the dark of Prime’s room, hands clutching over his chest, fingers digging in against the glass of Prime’s windshields.

“What the frag was that?” he whispered, and _felt_ the warm, amused pulse next to his own spark.

The Matrix.

Holy Primus!

 _Exactly,_ that familiar voice whispered.

The presence faded, leaving Megatron to reel with the knowledge that _Primus_ was _real_. And yes, he was going to go ahead and take a look around, and actually think, because-

Pits. He was becoming hopelessly corrupted by these Autobots, wasn’t he?

But peace would be nice. The easy respect the Autobots had for Prime wasn’t feigned or forced. Their… friendships were real, and they were having _fun_ despite being mired in war. He really would like that. And energon enough that he wasn’t constantly hungry, and his troops weren’t either.

He couldn’t drop back into recharge, mind too busy whirling over everything. What had happened? It was so easy to see now where he’d veered off his path. How could he have done that? He’d been so determined, so driven.

Too much so, then?

Megatron sighed, retracting the battlemask to scrub at his face, then dug around Prime’s quarters until he found a mostly empty datapad and stylus. He sat down at the desk and started writing everything he wanted. Not the means to get it, but what he wanted.

Peace on a restored Cybertron topped the list.


	5. Chapter 5

Optimus growled in annoyance, but that didn’t stop Starscream.

The passage of time was difficult to mark under the ocean, but it had apparently been a week since there was another officers’ meeting to attend. This time they had Shockwave on the vid screen, jabbering on about needing energon for this or that and that his drones successfully deflected an Autobot raid.

 _That_ had angered Prime too. Knowing there were still Autobots on Cybertron scraping for a meal and there that purple boob sat in his tower, demanding more so he could- What was the experiment he wanted to try? Slag.

Starscream was ranting, Shockwave was droning back, Scrapper said something about production and a raid. Prime shot the raid idea down without explanation, which only set Starscream off on a new shrill exposition of how Megatron was a loser and didn’t deserve to be leader of the Decepticons.

Personally, Prime thought no one deserved to have to deal with this, and was wondering if he could just end the meeting now and spend some time alone with Soundwave. He was tense and sick of being afraid, of having to watch every tiny word or mannerism. He was uncomfortable. Hungry. Scared and homesick. The only time that seemed to ease was when he reached for Soundwave and rather than sharp nasty words, he got a warm, willing frame pressing up against him.

It was his only reprieve and solace, and how sad was it that he was using a mech that didn’t even really know who he was interfacing with? He was so very tempted to offer Soundwave his- Megatron’s valve, just for the comfort of something more familiar, but-

“You’re not even listening are you?!” Starscream shrieked.

Optimus arched an optic ridge. “Get out.”

Decepticons scattered. Soundwave shut down the feed to Cybertron, cutting off Shockwave’s simpering, then left as well.

Optimus frowned, left with the only mech he’d really wanted to leave.

Starscream smirked, hips swinging more than necessary as he rounded the side of the table. “Well, and here I’d thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

“Now wouldn’t that be nice.”

“Tch!” Starscream’s arms looped around Optimus shoulders. He propped on knee on the seat of Optimus’ chair, sliding into place straddling his lap. “I don’t know what you see in him. We all know I’m better suited for your… affections.”

Jealousy? Optimus felt the arched optic ridge inch higher. Starscream was jealous of the time he was spending with Soundwave? Primus, save him. He managed to find some pleasure in Soundwave, but _Starscream_? Did he really have to do this?

“Get off me, Starscream.”

Starscream snickered, aft now perched on Optimus’ thighs, a very telling heat easy to feel through his plating. He leaned forward, purring, fingertips sliding along a rather sensitive spot under the back of Megatron’s helm at the top of his neck. Optimus shivered, his body reacting despite his distaste.

Starscream’s lips caressed along to an audial, and his voice was almost pleasant as he whispered, “You’re frustrated. Far too tense, my lord. Take me hard. I promise I’ll not even complain about the dents.”

Optimus was going to deny him, push him away, but there was a darker swirl of desire curling around his spark. Starscream wanted it, did he? His panel springing open and the heady scent of heated lubricant filling the air seemed to say he did.

Starscream rocked, slick array rubbing over Optimus’ panel as he moaned.

Optimus stood abruptly, surprised when Starscream managed to land lightly on his feet, and growling in real arousal as the seeker turned his back, and showily bent over the table.

Fine. He could do this. His spike extending the moment he allowed the hatch to retract agreed. Optimus tried not to think, and gripped Starscream’s hips.

“Hard,” Starscream whimpered. “Hurt me.”

Optimus shook his helm, but thrust in deep in a single powerful plunge. Starscream’s fingers scratched the surface of the table, a sharp keen hurting Optimus’ audials. He set a fast pace, trying to block out the shrill cries and demands for more, but the lust was difficult to hold on to. If Starscream would just shut the frag _up_!

Optimus offlined his audials, driving as hard as he could into the seeker. Overload was a relief simply because it was over. Starscream thrashed, back arched and wings quivering, his valve snugging down tight, and dragging Optimus over the edge for the most lack-luster climax he’d ever experienced.

Optimus pulled away without ceremony and reset his audials as he dropped back into his chair.

Starscream straightened, turning to lean back against the table. Optimus watched the slow drizzle of silvery transfluid slide down white thighs and felt nothing but disgust. With himself. With Starscream. With pretty much everything.

“Well, you’ve been more impressive, but I suppose one as-”

Optimus was on his feet again in an instant, hand around Starscream’s throat. Red optics were wide, genuine fear showing on Starscream’s face. It took a moment for Optimus to get his hand to uncurl, and then Starscream was gone, wisely fleeing.

Optimus groaned, fell back in the chair once more, and tried to convince himself that he reacted the way he had because it was exactly what Megatron would do and he really needed to keep up the act just a little longer.

~

Optimus had gone to the Decepticons rec room out of curiosity and a need to be around others, even if they were Decepticons. Maybe he could find something redeeming in them? He was actually becoming fond of Soundwave, at least he thought he was. The mech was calm, and that was soothing. Optimus felt a little stir-crazy, and even a quieter, more fulfilling interfacing with Soundwave hadn’t assuaged the feeling.

He was just barely in the door when Swindle and Frenzy’s voices, and the subject the were discussing, caught his attention.

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’s no way the old Nintendo is going to hold a candle to the new Super NES!” Frenzy said.

“There’s hardly any games,” Swindle debated. “Even with my connections, it’s going to take-”

There was a shout, then Frenzy was flying across the room and Swindle was screaming from under Wildrider’s pummeling fists. Brawl dove in. Drag Strip pounced, and within the blink of an optic everyone from the two gestalts, except Onslaught -who was not there- and Motormaster -who was watching the fight while leaning against the wall and looking bored- was in the pile, punching kicking, biting.

Optimus shook his helm, watching from the doorway, then turned to leave. He was down the hall before he realized he should probably have waded in to stop them.

He definitely shouldn’t have been _amused_.

~

It was another pointless meeting filled with arguing and snide comments and bitching in circles.

Optimus was _hungry_. Even on Megatron’s higher ration allotment his tanks ached in hunger. All of them were suffering, and Optimus hated the feeling of guilt, but he couldn’t condone a slagging raid on a human facility! It was becoming impossible to find reasons to shoot down the proposed attacks.

There was actually a momentary rush of _gratitude_ towards Starscream when he stepped far enough out of line for Optimus to justify reaching out to grab his neck. Shockwave’s communication was shut off and the Decepticon officers had fled before Optimus even slammed Starscream’s back to the tabletop.

This time Optimus left his audials online, listening to every scream that managed to get past the tight grip he kept on the seeker’s neck. There was no snarking or complaining after the overloads this time, and Optimus left Starscream dazed and smiling as he all but fled what he’d done.

~

Optimus paced Megatron’s quarters, angry at himself, but more, afraid of what he was becoming. How could he possibly have done that? Never mind that Starscream was an active participant, screaming for more, begging for Optimus to go faster, harder. He knew he wouldn’t have stopped had the seeker wanted him to.

Was it the environment? The mechs he was surrounded by? What was happening to him?

His thoughts were interrupted by the door chiming. Optimus wasn’t in the mood for company, wasn’t even sure he could behave like Megatron, but he should probably open the door. He could always bellow, and punch whoever it was. They were Decepticons, so it wasn’t like he’d never struck one before.

The door opened to reveal Soundwave, however, and Optimus stepped back to admit him. Soundwave he could take. Soundwave was a welcome balm in all the insanity.

Once the door cycled shut and was locked against anyone else, Optimus walked over to sit on the desk chair. He really didn’t think he could spike Soundwave just then, and didn’t want to encourage touching at that moment.

Soundwave didn’t appear to be there for the interfacing this time, however. He stood at attention a few paces back from Optimus, and when he spoke his voice was the crisp business-like monotone instead of the musical harmonics of their more intimate moments. “Request permission to speak freely, Lord Megatron.”

Optimus waved a hand, both intrigued and worried.

“Energon required. Raid necessary.” Soundwave pulled a datapad from his subspace, and offered it to Optimus. “List of potential targets. Suggestion: send small parties to multiple targets for quick collection and extraction before Autobots can mobilize.”

Optimus thumbed through the list, processors spinning as he tried to come up with a valid reason to decline.

Soundwave wasn’t finished though. “Reluctance to acquire needed fuel?”

This was Soundwave so Optimus could hardly just yell back the way he could with Starscream’s verbal attacks. He set aside the datapad, and motioned to Soundwave. “Come here,” he murmured. Interfacing shut Starscream up, and it’d deflected Soundwave before. Why not try it again?

Soundwave tensed, one foot even sliding back a little. “My lord?”

Optimus frowned. “Come here, Soundwave.” Light shifted across Soundwave’s visor, but he didn’t budge. “Soundwave,” Optimus growled, standing.

“Energon stores are-” Soundwave twisted, almost dancing out of Optimus’ reach as he lunged. “My lord!”

Fury burned through Optimus. Now even this one was going to cause him problems? He dove at Soundwave, and this time, they both tumbled to the floor. Soundwave struggled to get away, but didn’t actually try to hit him, which only made Optimus more angry. It swirled and tightened around his spark, made his fists clench and a low, threatening growl resonate up from deep in his chest. He pinned Soundwave, fingers curling against the thin seam of his interface hatch.

Soundwave was gasping, visor bright. “Forgive me, my lord,” he whispered, then clamped Optimus’ helm between his hands.

The pain was a lance through Optimus’ mind. He roared, jerking back, but Soundwave didn’t let go. He fought against the intruding presence, but failed.

They both froze.

Optimus stared up with wide optics as Soundwave’s visor flickered. The pain receded, but Soundwave didn’t retreat from Optimus’ mind.

“This isn’t right,” Optimus said. “There’s something wrong with me. With Megatron. I don’t- I don’t _do_ such things!”

Soundwave backed off, physically and telepathically, leaving Optimus to sit up. He had no idea what to expect. He wasn’t at all sure he could escape, and even if he could, he couldn’t go back to the Autobots. Especially not if he himself had become such a threat.

Soundwave sat still for a moment that stretched out interminably. Optimus fidgeted, thinking up and discarding idea after idea.

“Permission, Optimus Prime, to accompany you to the medbay for a thorough scan of Megatron’s coding for anomalies.” Soundwave’s visor brightened. “Then following, a discussion of theories on how you are here, and where Lord Megatron is.”

Optimus nodded his agreement. What else could he do?


	6. Chapter 6

Megatron had moved to Prime’s office once the normal working shift began, and was combing through the reports. Battles, proposed science projects, theoretical essays on the reclaiming and rebuilding of Cybertron. He found a datapad in the bottom of one drawer that was shockingly similar to the one he’d created in the dark hours of the morning. It was more of a journal instead of a list, showing the Prime’s hopes and thoughts rather than just the desired accomplishment.

They really did have similar goals.

There was a pleased vibration somewhere deep in Megatron’s psyche.

“But what happens when I get back in my body and lose this influence?” Megatron had spent hours going over how different he felt. When he looked for it, it was easy to see. He had not felt like this since the beginning of the war, and that concerned him greatly. _Why_ had he lost sight of his goals so thoroughly?

There was no answer from Primus, and only a moment later the console communications chimed. Megatron tapped the answering button, optic ridge rising to see Red Alert’s frantic expression.

“ _Sir, there’s an incoming transmission for you._ ”

“Put it through,” Megatron said.

Red Alert fidgeted. “ _It’s **Megatron**! And he wants to speak to you privately. I find that highly unusual, sir. I don’t think_ -”

“It’s all right, Red Alert. Put him though, and be sure it’s private.” It’d been nearly a month. Megatron had all but given up thinking that Prime was in his body, but he was instantly recognizable when the vid screen flickered on. Yes, it was Megatron’s own face staring back at him, but behind the red optics it was all Optimus Prime.

How had he managed to hide himself from the Decepticons so long?

“ _Hello, Megatron_ ” Optimus said.

Megatron smirked a little in amusement. “Hello, Prime. Taking good care of my body for me?”

“ _We need to talk._ ” Optimus tensed, but slid to the side, and Soundwave stepped into the frame.

“Indeed we do,” Megatron agreed. “Soundwave.”

“ _My lord,_ ” Soundwave intoned. “ _Virus found and eradicated. Orders for dealing with the traitor, Shockwave?_ ”

Megatron blinked. Of all things he expected to hear, Shockwave being labeled a traitor was not on the list. “Explain.”

Optimus leaned in a little. “ _Things were normal at first, but then I… became more violent. Just yesterday I… attacked Soundwave. We’ve spend the night in the medbay while he and Frenzy went line by line through your code. Thankfully, they found the virus._ ” As Prime spoke, the hesitancy left his tone. “ _Personally, I don’t know enough about viruses, but Frenzy was very sure, and then Soundwave showed Starscream a piece of it, and he asked what Shockwave was cooking up, so I feel that’s fair enough proof to at least use caution in regards to allowing Shockwave, or even too many others to know about the discovery before you and I can see about returning to our own bodies._ ”

Prime paused, optics intensifying as he looked at Megatron. “ _How are my Autobots?_ ”

“Happy and whole, Prime. I’ve not harmed a one of them. However, once your medic learns of this, he may be slightly… disgruntled with me.” Megatron tried not to smirk, but he hardly felt _he_ had taken advantage of Ratchet the one night the medic had come to Prime’s berth.

Prime tipped his helm, frowning in confusion for a moment. His expression when he realized just what Megatron meant was highly entertaining. Megatron didn’t even mind that it was his own face stretched into a rictus of shock. Then Prime’s optics shifted guiltily to Soundwave. “ _Yes, well… Perhaps we should meet somewhere neutral and then let everyone know at once?_ ”

Megatron snorted. “Coward. You ‘faced Starscream, didn’t you?” Prime sputtered, and Soundwave’s visor actually flashed in a rare show of annoyance that Megatron found very interesting indeed. “I propose a ceasefire, Megatron,” Megatron said, putting aside his amusement for the time being.

Prime blinked, recovering quickly and straightening. “ _I accept, Prime. Perhaps you would like to speak with your officers and have Prowl and Red Alert choose a place for us to meet?_ ”

Megatron dipped his chin in a nod, then again as Soundwave gave a slight bow, and stepped back. The communication was cut, and Megatron sat there for a moment.

 _That explains so much_ , whispered through Megatron’s mind. He nodded, drawing on that sense of peace to help him keep the fury and sense of betrayal at bay. There was work to do first.

~ | ~

Telling everyone was met by the full spectrum of reactions. Disbelief, anger, fear.

Starscream shut everyone up by looking right at Optimus Prime, who still wore Megatron’s body, and laughing. Hard. He was giggling puddle of helpless seeker on the ground, words barely comprehensible when he gasped out, “That explains _so_ much!” then promptly went back to cackling.

Neither Prime, Megatron, nor Soundwave enlightened the others to just why that was funny, but a few of the Decepticons seemed to get it anyway.

“Oh! Oh, yes, I do believe that would work!” Perceptor’s voice rang with excitement over the noise of so many mechs talking and arguing.

“What would work?” Prowl asked.

Megatron tried hard to follow Perceptor’s response, but everyone except Wheeljack, Skyfire, Starscream and Soundwave looked lost after the first dozen or so words.

“If you believe it will work,” Prime said, “then let’s try it. I want my body back.”

“Ok!” Wheeljack said, transforming. “I’ll go get what we need an’ be back shortly.”

Megatron, Prime, and their main officers sat down on the ground in a loose circle. Autobots and Decepticons grouped behind their commanders and glared back and forth. The conversation between Prime and Megatron was disconcertingly civil.

“I agree with keeping this information from Shockwave. We’ll need to stage something to get word to your remaining Autobots on Cybertron,” Megatron said. He was still furious with the betrayal, but determined not to slip directly back into violence.

“Wait. What about Shockwave?” Starscream asked, then his optics went round. “The virus was Shockwave’s doing.” He was silent a moment, and Megatron watched Soundwave flinch back, one hand coming up to his helm. “Shockwave’s insidious little program is why you became a violent, sociopathic warmonger who wouldn’t-”

Megatron watched Starscream closely, but he was calm, his voice even. His optics remained that bright scarlet, helm tilted just a little like when he was considering some interesting bit of academia. “Starscream?”

Starscream smiled at Megatron and waved his hand dismissively. “I shall need to get word to the other seekers left under Shockwave’s command as well, my lord.” Megatron’s optic ridge rose, and he found himself tensing. That was Starscream’s up-to-no-good-at-all tone, and everyone else recognized it too. He leaned forward to look at Soundwave. “What do you think, Soundwave? I can go with the next shipment of energon, claim to check on my seekers. One of them can slip off to deliver a message to the Autobots?”

Megatron and Prime shared a look. Prowl’s optics were narrowed. Soundwave, however, agreed, stunning them all.

“Starscream’s plan has a higher likelihood of success and less chance of collateral damage than risking a staged Autobot raid through the space bridge,” Soundwave said.

Megatron shrugged. Prime snorted and shook his helm. “Fine. Now, about our actual goals for peace?”

Megatron grinned and pulled a datapad from his subspace.

By the time Wheeljack returned with their cure, Megatron and Prime had nearly all their mechs huddled around them, everyone tossing ideas for this or that, or what should be done first once Cybertron was reclaimed. The scientists had gathered together and were babbling happily in what sounded like plain Cybertronian, but Megatron couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it.

“Hey ya,” Wheeljack greeted, picking his footsteps carefully around Autobot and Decepticon alike, and missing all except for Dead End’s fingers. “Oops! Sorry ‘bout that.”

Megatron looked up from the datapad on which he’d been writing Prime’s idea about governmental set-up, and went very still. In Wheeljack’s hand, tossed and caught, tossed and caught, was a small grenade-shaped object.

“Ya both ready ta get back ta normal?”

Mechs scattered in all directions.

~ | ~

Optimus smiled as Soundwave stepped into his office. He was becoming quite the fixture at the _Ark_. Optimus had been rather surprised when Soundwave had approached him only the day after he’d gotten his own body back, mask sliding away and fingers coming up to almost playfully request the same from him. The kiss had been scorching hot, and so had the following interfacing.

They’d fumbled a little at first, but then Optimus cycled his vents and asked if Soundwave would mind spiking him this time.

‘Scorching’ really might be a bit of an understatement.

He’d never thought, and apparently Megatron hadn’t either, that Soundwave would be a spike mech. No wonder he’d never been particularly ardent when Optimus interfaced with him. He admitted that it’d been duty to Megatron, not real desire, and of course a fair amount of fear of just what would happen if he said no.

Optimus had winced. They both knew exactly what would happen when he said no.

Soundwave’s mask retracted, one finger poking the keypad by the door to lock it. “End of shift:, two point four breems ago.”

Optimus let his mask retract and gave Soundwave a mischievous grin. “Oh? Was it?”

~ | ~

“No, you may not… what was that? Staple?” Megatron asked. Starscream nodded, still pacing back and forth in Megatron’s new quarters. “No, you may not staple Skywarp to the ceiling by his wings. Figure out a different punishment.”

Starscream huffed, crossing his arms and pouting for a moment before his expression shifted to something sly and calculating. Megatron pretended not to notice and went back to replying to Prime’s last text only communication.

“Some soft, non-violent Autobot punishment, you mean.”

Megatron shrugged, not rising to the bait. “I lived with them for a month, Starscream. It wasn’t even horrible.” Pits, with the Decepticons now on land and practically neighbors to the Autobots, most mechs were back and forth between both bases. It was downright _friendly_. For the most part, the Autobots were coming to visit and help the Decepticons set up their new and temporary base, but Soundwave, and oddly enough the aforementioned Skywarp, were regular overnight guests of the _Ark_ , and had been for the last couple weeks.

“Tch! Skywarp is hardly going to be deterred by some fluffy non-punishment the Autobots like!”

Megatron forced back a grin. “How do you know if you don’t try? Tell him he’s grounded for a day and not allowed to see Sideswipe. I bet he behaves for a good week afterwards.”

“You’re practically an Autobot yourself!”

Megatron sent his message to Prime, then stood abruptly. Starscream’s optics flared, wings sweeping back, but he didn’t retreat.

“You’ll have all of us as soft as them! As _you_!”

Megatron smirked, hand striking out to grip Starscream’s shoulder and yank him in against his chest. “Soft am I?” he purred, then turned, _throwing_ Starscream at his berth. He understood. Starscream was still pushing because he needed to be sure the old Megatron was really back. It’d been so long, and they were both damaged by the past, but he’d never have chosen Starscream if he weren’t strong enough to face this new challenge too.

Starscream’s optics had darkened to garnet, but he glared back, voice biting, “Is that really the best you can do, _Mighty_ Megatron?”

It certainly wasn’t, and he didn’t let Starscream off his berth until he regained consciousness and admitted that not all of Megatron had gone soft, not even a little. Then he rewarded his Second in Command for his… faith.

The only downside was that Skywarp never did get punished, but since he was teamed up with Prime’s red demon, Megatron was more than happy to let the Autobots reprimand him.


	7. Epilogue

Starscream arrived on Cybertron with another shipment of energon, right into the midst of an Autobot attack where the seekers just couldn’t seem to get organized, and weren’t shooting at all, and blazes! It was just all a mess!

Starscream admired the scene on the monitor for a moment, then said, “Shockwave?”

“I am quite busy at the moment, Starscream!” Shockwave said, optic locked on the vid screen.

“I think you should turn around and look at this,” Starscream said, voice mild and calm.

Shockwave noisily cycled his vents, then turned. Starscream fired, the modified blaster punching two holes in his chest and a third right through his optic. Starscream watched the bright flash of white, purple plating beginning to dull and grey, and smiled.

“ _Now_ we can have peace.”

“Prime will not be pleased.”

Starscream turned, shrugging in response to Ultra Magnus’ comment. “Neither will Megatron. They were both talking about a trial.”

Ultra Magnus’ mouth pressed into a thin, displeased line. “Well, perhaps this was necessary. I believe I arrived right in time to see him targeting you. Amazing how fast seekers can move. I think Shockwave grew lax in regards to combat with all those drones to do the dirty work for him.”

Starscream grinned. “Fragger. Thinking about shooting me right in front of all this energon too!” He walked over to the space bridge controls, reprogramming them for Earth. “I have a very short window this time, so please get in touch with Acid Storm so the seekers and other Decepticons still here can have a decent meal for a change.”

“Absolutely.”

“Any messages for Prime?” Starscream asked, stepping over Shockwave’s shell as he headed back toward the gate.

“Only that I will contact him with a report once the dust settles.” Ultra Magnus gestured and a couple Autobots entered the control room and began towing out the hover sled.

Starscream tossed him a salute as the gate shut, very pleased. Megatron would never buy the story, but it didn’t matter. What was that line Sunstreaker had quoted him just that morning? Something about sure, let’s give this peace a chance. Right after we kill that fragger.


End file.
